


Pink Slip

by cher



Category: Grease (1978)
Genre: AU from the Sleepover Onward, F/F, Getting Together, Girl Mechanics, Kisses at the Drive-In, Rizzo Likes Sandy, Sandy Likes Cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cher/pseuds/cher
Summary: There was a girl at the beach. Rizzo couldn't stop looking.





	Pink Slip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tablelamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/gifts).



> Thanks to rosefox for beta.

Start of summer break, you should go to the beach, right? The day was too nice, and the morning's customers had been a drag. So Riz sassed her good-natured manager at the Dog n Suds until she had the afternoon off. She delivered her last tray of root beer to a car full of vacationing Texans—they did tip well, but that didn't make up for their wandering hands, ugh—and clocked off. Gleefully, making sure her luckless coworkers saw her leave, she changed out of the uniform—which was really no one's style—and drove her ancient Regal down to the edge of the sand. It coughed, as it always had, but it was hers, it was the perfect shade of pink, and she loved the old clunker. 

Swimming really wasn't her thing, but Riz loved a good afternoon of people-watching. She got herself an ice cream cone and settled against the boardwalk railing in the warm sun. It was a great day to be out. 

>>

There was a girl at the beach. She was smiling back at interested boys, of course, because Riz wasn't ever gone on a girl who'd notice her. That'd be too easy. 

Or maybe hard. She wondered if she did it on purpose, sometimes, got all gooey about some boy-crazy girl or other so there'd be no real chance of anything coming of it. She tried to think of herself as brave, as the sort of girl who'd never let a little thing like nasty social accusations stop her from doing anything, but she suspected that she wasn't as wedded to her convictions as she liked to think. 

In any case, the girl at the beach was the kind of beautiful you only saw in the magazines, all sunlight and fresh-faced blonde, and her accent made Riz's spine melt. She was Australian, Riz had gathered, from the time she'd spent strategically placed and smoking with her shades on, while the girl—Sandy, of course Sandy, she was sunlight all over—was awkwardly chatted up by Danny “God’s gift” Zuko, who seemed to be attempting an experiment where he acted like an actual human. Annoyingly, it seemed to be working. Riz toyed with the idea of warning Sandy off, because no one that nice—ugh, Riz—should be saddled unawares with the likes of him. 

But who was she to drop a rock on someone's summer fling. God knew someone should be getting some loving; she sure wasn't. 

Okay, sure, that was mostly because she was tired of Zuko, and Kenickie and their... everything, and actually, boys in general and their everything. Always saying one thing to her face and another thing behind her back. Still. She wasn't getting any hot and heavy, didn't seem right to deny someone else. 

Riz blew out her smoke extra hard. Damn, but that girl was worth looking at. She'd have good dreams tonight, that was for sure. 

>>

She didn't go back to the beach again that summer. She put her head down and worked her tail off, because she wanted to get the hell out of Dodge once graduation was done. She needed the cash to make it happen. 

And maybe, just a little, she wanted to keep the memory of the girl on the beach just as it was, something like a talisman. Something bright to remember, when her whole world seemed like a drab hassle. The girl, Sandy, pretty like a picture and nothing at all to do with Riz's life. Just the way she liked it. 

>>

Good old Rydell High. How glad she was to be back in its dingy, smelly corridors. Still, she had her final year to finish out on a high note, a posse to lead to glory, and a summer-crush hangover to get through. She parked the Regal—ignoring its coughing, it had never quit on her yet—slipped on her shades, draped her Pink Ladies jacket rakishly over her shoulders, and strutted her very best strut into the school yard. Jan and Marty flanked her, and she felt herself settle back into her old skin, at once familiar and constricting. Senior, leader, here to rule. Nothing was going to break her stride. 

And then there she was, being towed wide-eyed in Frenchie's wake. Sandy-sunshine, looking a bit lost and bit less beachy in her school clothes, but still magazine-girl pretty. Oh, hell. 

Looked like getting over the summer crush was going to be an absolute drag. Or maybe proximity would kill it for her; as Frenchie sailed up to her, she saw that out of her beach wear Sandy looked like a complete square. Still a magazine-pretty square, but maybe Riz would be okay. She couldn't see herself making calf eyes at someone who was _that_ demure; the very thought gave her the heaves. 

Sandy was completely hung up some boy she'd met at the beach over the summer, and Riz was kind of glad because it was going to help the crush die, surely. Then the hang-up turned out to be, somehow, Danny Zuko, who apparently had convinced her he was a decent person. Riz sure hadn't recognised him from any part of the description Sandy gave. 

Well. Maybe they deserved each other, then. 

>>

When she pulled up the next morning, Jan and Marty chattering next to her and Sandy and Frenchie waiting by the curb, the Regal coughed its way into the park as usual. Sandy failed to hide her wince, and Riz was incensed. She got out and slammed the door. "Problem?" she demanded, flinging her jacket over her shoulders. "People who aren't driving shouldn't razz people who do."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rizzo," Sandy said sincerely, her big eyes wide and her accent shivering its way down Riz's spine as usual. "I didn't mean to make fun of your car. It's just that it sounds like your carburetor really needs tuning. I got used to helping Daddy out with the cars back home, and I can't seem to break the habit."

Riz took her shades off and looked Sandy up and down, shiny straight hair to lily-white hands to white unscuffed shoes. "You work on cars?"

Sandy tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip. "I know it's a bit strange over here, a girl fixing a car, but my Daddy wanted me to know what to do if I was ever broken down somewhere. He showed me how to do a lot of things, and I always kind of liked it."

Frenchie clapped her hands excitedly. "You know we have shop class here, right? Mrs. Murdock teaches it, so I guess girls working on cars can't be too weird. You should talk to her. You could join the class!" Frenchie paused, in that dippy way she had. "But I guess I don't know any girls that take shop."

"Well, I don't know," Sandy said, uncertain. "I wouldn't want to stand out too much, my first week here."

"If you're going to let people and their opinions stop you doing anything, you may as well give up right now," Riz snapped, disgusted with the way her crush was frazzling her nerves. She always had liked boy mechanics; apparently she liked girl mechanics even more. 

"I know some guys who'd love a girl who could talk cars with him," Marty offered gamely. "I could introduce you."

"Well, thank you all," Sandy said, smiling her sunny smile with her perfect teeth on display. "Maybe I will talk to Mrs. Murdock. I should probably learn the difference in American cars! I'm not used to driving a left-hand drive yet, so I should learn soon, if I'm going to be here for a while." 

"Wow," Frenchie said, eyes wide. "You mean the _cars_ are backward in Australia?" 

Sandy laughed. It was musical. Riz hated herself. "Sure, Frenchie. We drive on the left side of the road too. It's a bit of an adjustment!"

"Well, come on, girls. We'll all make sure Sandy stays on the right side of things, won't we?" And Riz led them all into the school, ignoring Kenickie's eyes on her. She had better things to do. 

>>

Riz actually felt bad about Sandy's distress at the sleepover. She had a policy about never feeling bad about anything she did, because the world wanted to blunt her in all kinds of ways and she saw absolutely no reason to help it along. 

But she could be honest with herself. She'd hurt Sandy because she'd been acting like a middle school boy and pretending so hard she didn't want anything to do with the girl she liked that she fooled everyone but herself. 

She might actually have to apologize, with her big girl pants and all. Shit. 

And as soon as she'd told those T-Bird pigs to take a hike, that's what she'd do. Zuko was clearly having some kind of breakdown over Sandy, and this time Riz did think she should step in. Sure, she'd kind of set him up to show his true colors, but now that he had, he didn't deserve her. 

He'd treated Riz just the same way, and she didn't think Sandy should have to go through it. She didn't have Riz's thick skin, after all. So she went out the window to the girls’ squeals, told herself she wasn't trying to impress anyone, and trash-talked Kenickie and his crew until they tucked their tails and roared off. 

And her car was still better than theirs, so they could bite it. 

Sandy came outside then, while Riz was leaning against the portcullis she'd just climbed down. Nightdress up to her chin, white all the way. _Why_ did she make Riz's blood race, when she was such a milksop? 

"Hey, Sandy," she said, hesitantly. 

"Oh," Sandy said, surprised. "Hi, Riz. I didn't know you were still out here."

She looked at Sandy, her big wide eyes. The innocence just rolled straight off her, like waves lapping in from the sea. It made Riz want to mock her until she stopped—how could she show all that to the world all the time?—and it also made her want to wrap Sandy up in Frenchie's big white duvet and not let anyone so much as look at her the wrong way. Nobody had ever made Rizzo want to rein in her sharper comments. It was confusing.

"Look, Sandy. I wasn't acting very nice up there. I'm sorry."

Sandy looked at her, that calm clear gaze. And that was something. Sandy got mad, she cried, she didn't want to do something and said so—that kind of honesty was a sort of bravery, wasn't it? Maybe that was it, that Riz was so tired of all the faces people put on, the dishonesty, all the work it took to hold herself together all the time—maybe Sandy's straightforward nature attracted her as much as her pretty face. 

No boy had ever been straight with her. Sandy would never be anything but. Maybe Riz could do with someone like that in her life. 

"Well, Riz, I know you don't like me very much, but you haven't actually told me to stop tagging along. I appreciate that. I accept your apology."

Straight up, no games. This girl had never tried to play it cool in her life, had she?

"Well, maybe I don't know you all that well, that's all. How about we change that?"

They smiled at each other, a bit tentatively. 

"Maybe you'd let me look at your car? Bring it to the shop, let me and Mrs. Murdock tune it for you?"

"Hmm. Sure, kid. Weirdest date I ever heard of, why not?" What was she saying? Shit. Play it cool. 

Sandy smiled. "Great. You can laugh at my coveralls. You'll like it."

>>

The rest of the Ladies were persuaded to stay away from the auto shop once Riz mentioned grease and dirt a few times. Jan probably wouldn't care, but she never wanted to do anything without Marty, and Marty wasn't going to bring her manicure into the shop. Frenchie was the same. Success. 

Riz could look at Sandy and her coveralls in peace, and maybe work on not being so much of a cow. 

Mrs. Murdock exclaimed over the Regal when Riz drove it into the shop. "A Studebaker Commander Regal! A good choice for a fine lady, Betty. And the perfect color for you, of course."

"I was real lucky to find it, that's for sure," Riz said, free to preen a bit now that she was away from the Ladies. 

Sandy seemed delighted that she'd come. She looked just a little silly, in the white coveralls and her hair tied up in a scarf, but Riz had the uncomfortable feeling that the look was going to grow on her. 

"Mrs. Murdock, I thought that the problem might be the carburetor tuning. What do you think?"

"Now, Sandy, you know how it is. I'm here to show you the basics and then let you fly. You know what to do, so you go ahead and do it. I'll be here if you get into trouble or you need a second pair of hands." And she took herself off to her desk, where she sat and pulled out a hot rod magazine to page through. Riz might even believe she wasn't listening to them. 

Sandy blew out a breath that sent her bangs flying, looking at Riz wryly. "Well, that's me told," she said. "Would you pop the hood? Let's take a look."

Obediently, she did. And, more curious than she'd anticipated, she came around to stand next to Sandy and peer at the engine. She stood so close, Riz could feel the heat coming off Sandy, and it made Riz’s spine tingle, and—was Sandy blushing? Oh, if only that were the case. She bumped her with her hip. "Hey. Thanks for looking at it."

"No problem, Riz. I'm happy to!" Sandy smiled at her, and now she seemed a little shy. "Would you hand me that wrench?"

Sandy got her hands right down into the car, not hesitating at all. "You might want to stand back. Sometimes this part gets a little messy." 

Riz might not be quite as worried about grease as the others, but no, she definitely did not want to be covered in oil. She retreated to lean against the shop wall and watched Sandy work. 

Sandy tightened and tapped and wiped with a rag she pulled out of her back pocket. She slid under the car and out again, asked Riz to start the engine, and peered into the open hood with every appearance of absorption. What do you know? It seemed like sunny Sandy really did like working on cars. 

She pulled out a part that looked black with grime and made a face. Hell, that was cute. "Riz, would you ask Mrs. Murdock for a new air filter? This could actually be your problem."

Assistant to a pretty grease monkey. Well, Riz'd had stranger afternoons. She brought the part over, and Sandy stuck it in the car with less swearing than she'd ever seen from a mechanic. She wondered what it would take to get Sandy to swear. 

Sandy made some more adjustments and had Riz rev the engine while she peered critically under the hood. "Okay," she said. "This looks good. Would you mind taking me for a drive?"

Riz raised an eyebrow. "Sure, kid. Anytime."

Sandy blushed. "Oh. Well, thank you. I need to hear it on the road to check that we got the problem, see? Then we'll bring it back, I'll change out the oil, and we're done."

"Sure," Riz said, intrigued by the blush. "Hop in."

Sandy called to Mrs. Murdock, who waved and nodded, and cleaned her hands. She turned so her back was to Riz. "No grease on me? I wouldn’t want to mark your seats."

Riz could wish the coveralls were a little tighter in the seat, but she had no complaints. "You're cleaner than Jan on a good day. In you get."

They drove out of the shop, and Riz took them out toward the beach. Why not? The air between them was buzzing, and Riz didn't think she was imagining it. Well, hesitation was for cowards, and feeling awkward wasn't fatal, was it?

"Hey, Sandy."

"Yes, Rizzo?"

"How do you feel about the movies?"

"Oh, I love movies!"

"Would you like to come to the drive-in with me Friday night?"

"Oh, Riz, I'd love to. Thank you." Sandy beamed at her. Riz surprised herself by smiling widely back. 

And the car didn't cough once. 

>>

The Regal was electric with all the tension Riz was throwing off. It could have been Sandy too, but thinking that seemed too close to hope, and hope always kicked Riz straight in the tits. Better to brazen your way past it all and pretend you'd never wanted anything. 

But hey, Sandy liked Danny's look, didn't she? Riz wasn't far from that model. 

Then Sandy's hand was creeping closer to her, edging further and further out of her own demure lap and toward Riz's hand. Tentative, Riz opened her curled fist, and Sandy traced hesitant fingertips over her palm. She shivered, couldn't help it. She'd gone all the way with a few boys, but Sandy touching her hand sent more electricity racing down her spine than any of the boys—or all the boys combined—ever had. 

Riz turned her head to look at her and laid her other hand over Sandy's, so that she clasped her soft hand in both of her rougher ones. How she still had such soft hands when she moved them fearlessly inside engines, Riz had no idea. Sandy looked determinedly straight ahead at the screen, where the blob-thing was oozing around the town. If Riz could have drawn her feelings, they might have looked the same. People would have run screaming, too. She sure wanted to. 

Riz swallowed, and stroked her thumb along the top of Sandy's delicate hand. Sandy squeezed back, ducked her head a little. 

Riz must have made some noise, and Sandy looked over. She really couldn't have said what happened next, but when their lips met, they both had their eyes wide open, because they couldn't stop looking at each other. At least, that was Riz's excuse. Sandy tasted like—well, popcorn, actually, but in Riz's head she was all sea breeze and cotton candy, so that's what she thought of. And she'd been taught to kiss by goddamn Zuko, so Riz needed to teach her better right quick. 

And Sandy got it, almost immediately, the tentative start to the press of their lips turning heated and wet. Her eyes had fallen closed at some point or another, and she opened them, dazed, when Sandy pulled back. 

She looked shocked, flushed, Goddammit, still so beautiful. Riz really hoped she wasn't about to have a freakout about kissing a girl. 

"Oh," Sandy said, her accent wrapping Riz up in joy even in that one little syllable. She put her fingers to her lips, and then, as if she couldn't stop herself, she traced Riz's lips as well. It was electrifying. And didn't seem likely to be the start of a hysterical fit, either. 

"Say, uh," Riz murmured, not wanting to disturb Sandy's fingers on her mouth, "do you maybe want to get out of here, go to my place?"

Sandy looked back at her, warm clear gaze just starting to sparkle like it had back on the beach, before Riz had even known her name. "Sure, Betty. I'd love to."


End file.
